


Touch that dangly thing at the back of my throat

by snoozingkitten



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Curses, M/M, sloppy blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoozingkitten/pseuds/snoozingkitten
Summary: Geno comes down with an unusual curse.He could wait for the cure-- or he could use the fool-proof method.
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin
Comments: 16
Kudos: 69
Collections: Sid/Geno Spooky Fest 2020





	Touch that dangly thing at the back of my throat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [getoffmyhead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/getoffmyhead/gifts).



He chewed his mouth guard. Everyone chewed their mouth guard-- it was a thing. He hadn’t met anyone who didn’t chew their mouth guard. Every now and then, someone _might_ even clean their mouthguard-- that generally wasn’t a thing. You just tried not to accidentally spit it out on national television and called it. 

None of this in any way explained his current predicament. 

His face was soaked. His gums ached with how aggressively he was chewing on his fucking mouth guard. 

_Fuck_ , Geno thought miserably. 

Practice was wrapping up and he spat his mouth guard into his hand to look at it critically. It looked the same black rubber as it ever was. Little grooves fitted to his teeth. 

Without bothering to mention it to anyone, he skated off towards the locker room. That way he could peel off his soaked jersey before anyone else came in. His whole chest was unusually slick. It wasn’t exactly odd to get covered in types of— fluids playing hockey. But this was a new and unforeseen level of unpleasant. 

_What the fuck._

\--

Geno stepped away from the team Hoodoo specialist. He didn't trust Hoodoo, not even one tiny bit. America was such a fucked-up place—only here would they have _that_ instead of proper forest hags. Geno could deal with witches; he’d been visiting the witches for protection since he was a toddler, his grandmother believed strongly in the Old Ways. 

America took all the old ways and made them so they were incomprehensible. Like pretty much everything else it borrowed from their nation’s shared pasts. 

Next doctor, then. 

He took the towel out of his pocket and pressed it against his mouth to soak up some of the excess saliva. For two days he had refused to speak, even when spoken to directly. It had almost caused at least one fight. 

When he called his mother in a panic after practice that day, he ended up needing to wipe his mobile phone off on his shirt. It was just easier not to speak. 

"You're ... spitting?" the team witch asked him with an insultingly dubious expression. 

Geno grunted, holding the white towel in front of his face. His mouth was getting sore from wiping it all day. 

"And you are sure it is a curse?" she repeated. 

Geno huffed and refused to answer such a dumb question. He had gone to see the team doctor who looked in his mouth once and told him this was way out of his area of expertise, maybe one of the team's supernatural specialists might be able to help him. 

"It isn't a usual one," she said, and Geno just managed not to roll his eyes. What did they pay her for? If it were a usual curse, he wouldn't be here. Wasn't she in charge of warding the area and the team anyway? 

Not that Geno ever listened to her much. She was a little wisp of a thing, and no witch was a _vegan_. Spell work started in the kitchen. Clearly didn't know a hex from a sneeze. 

He dabbed at his mouth again and sulked. His grandmother's 'friend' had gifted him his first protection medallion when he was 9; she’d told him very seriously that being the best or the worst at anything in life was a dangerous game. So far, he had been pretty lucky--one of his team mates on the world juniors ended up unable to say anyone's name for a week. 

Geno was paid a lot to take sports too seriously. That was his whole job, but the fans didn’t always make it easy. The people who lived and breathed sports had no excuse for their behavior. Over-zealous fans with an 'Intro to Curses' book and access to a local animal shelter were a serious problem for most sports teams. 

Being the best Geno was of course the target of many attempted curses. It wasn't difficult to be smug and irritated about being too good all at the same time. Especially now that one had taken. 

Right now he was just really annoyed. 

"Let me take a few readings." She hummed to herself. 

Geno glared at her collection of minimalist 'healing crystals' and allowed her to poke and prod him as needed. 

"It looks like you came in direct contact with a cursed object." She tapped one manicured nail on the desktop. He nodded. "With your mouth." 

She probably wasn't insinuating anything, but he’d grown up in hockey locker rooms. That sounded a lot like a chirp. He glared at her over his towel, grunting in wordless response again. 

"Was it work related or personal?" 

Geno glared harder. "Here. Probably mouth guard." 

"There should be just enough time to screen everything before the game.” She frowned, immediately taking out her mobile phone and tapping frantically. “It may take awhile, but I will find a way to reverse the curse." 

Geno sighed. 

\-- 

The thing about touching cursed objects was that the curses didn’t fade easily. Usually, if someone was sitting in their spare room trying to wish you harm, even a powerful caster was limited by distance. 

A proper cursed object could be much stronger. 

Everyone looked up when he banged his way into the locker room just in time for the game. He didn't even pretend not to be satisfied that his teammates were avoiding him. Whispers of _‘he’s in a mood’_ had followed him around all day. Smart-- they knew better. 

Swallowing constantly was painful. If he didn't, the saliva would pool under his tongue, making the seam of his lips slick and wet, eventually spilling from the corners of his mouth. He kept sucking his bottom lip into his mouth in a new, self-soothing motion. Made it feel less odd to be swallowing constantly. 

Horrible, terrible curse. 

Mouth sopping wet and screaming on the bench during the game, he accidentally spat his (new) mouth guard onto the floor, right into a gob of spit from where the other guys would spit on the ground between shifts. Geno grimaced and barked for the equipment guy. He had to have an extra lying around. He barely got the new one before he was up and over the boards. 

Saliva mixed with sweat, making his chin and neck wet, the rub from the chinstrap of his helmet irritating in a way it had never been before. He took out his frustration on the other team, ignoring all the claps on the back: 'Wow you're really fired up this game!' 'Give 'em hell eh?', 'we can't afford to take another penalty, calm the fuck down'. 

After the game, he brazenly stormed past the media coordinator trying to get his attention. There was no fucking way he was dealing with that. _Fuck no._

She snapped at him angry but with a perfect smile in place, and he just grunted, making a beeline for the change room anything. He was going to get in trouble for this later, but he had just generally run out of fucks to give as soon as his bellybutton felt wet with drool halfway through the third. There shouldn't have been a real difference between being drenched in sweat and this, but there was, and he resented it _deeply_. Let them get mad at him, his relationship with their media specialist was fraught with his lack of obedience on the best of days. 

"G." Sid caught him coming out of the shower, finally clean and marginally less grumpy. Casually holding a towel to his face as if he were just drying it. "You know you can't pull shit like that." He frowned, his captain-ly concern face out in full. That little furrow between his eyebrows, curls slick with sweat where they stuck out from under his 'talking to media' hat. This was a familiar scene between the two of them. 

Geno grunted. "Don't want to." 

"Look, I've let you --" He stopped mid sentence, nose flaring as he scented the air. "You're cursed?" 

Geno sighed, he should have known Sid would be able to tell. Demons and curses were like peanut butter and jam. "Yes." 

One of Sidney's grandparents or their grandparents' grandparents sexual tastes ran to oversized with scales and too many eyes. The links to the demon realm had long since been forcefully shut after the civil war, but there were still a handful of hybrids running around. Children with a higher affinity to magic and the built in ability to be curse resistant. 

Sidney hummed, looking him critically up and down as if he could see whatever the affliction was. Geno tried not to shift; this had been an okay conversation to have naked up until a couple of seconds ago. Casual nudity was almost as big an occupational hazard as dick jokes. Normally, it didn't feel quite so awkwardly close to a realization of a long repressed homosexual urge. 

Sidney’s focus felt like a brand across his naked skin. Sidney looked like he was going to ask more. Geno hoped he wouldn't. 

"Let me know if I can help eh?" Sidney gave him one of those small, tight smiles, the ones where he was displeased about something, but wasn't going to cause a huge scene about it for once. It was not a common expression for Sidney 'I-always-get-my-way' Crosby. Not that Geno’s wasn’t aware of what people thought of him, they just didn’t know the sheet depths of Sidney’s stubborn streak. 

Geno vividly remembered one horrible, terrible, awful time that left butterflies in his stomach, someone had commented on just how inflexible Sidney could be during a team dinner. Sidney had let out one of those honking laughs; he _knew_ he was difficult and just didn’t care. 'I always let Geno have his way, shouldn't you be bugging him?' He’s said with a lop-sided smile. In an effort to look like he wasn’t screaming internally, Geno had punched Sidney a little too hard on the shoulder with a scowl. 

Geno really wished Sidney wasn't staring at his naked waist so critically. It was like one of those wet dreams that morphed into a nightmare halfway through. 

"Okay," Geno replied, half a beat too late and a bit flat. Shuffled his way around Sidney and went back to his stall to pack and go home. Maybe he could get some of that waterproof paper from the medical room to try and put down when he slept so he didn't make such a huge mess. He was going to run out of pillows at this rate. 

\-- 

The most unanticipated part of this curse was that he needed to piss non-stop. He was thirsty constantly and so he drank more water than usual. Then he had to pee more. A vicious circle. 

"Your mouth guard was in fact cursed," the useless team witch said uselessly. 

Geno was perhaps even more short tempered than usual. He was sleepless, covered in spit and needed to piss. 

"I haven't been able to figure out what the base spell was, it isn't quite like anything I've seen." 

Geno could have told you that, days spent laboring over his homework and pretending not to listen as his grandmother's friend explained the principles of magic to her apprentice. All his pendants were made to ward off harm and ill-luck curses. She would have never left him open to any kind of attack. 

Whatever this was, it wasn't anything covered by their usual defensives. Not to mention whoever was able to get close enough to his mouth guard, of all things. 

"So, it is going to be longer until I can undo it, does it seem to be getting any better?" 

Geno shook his head. 

"I'll keep working, if there is anything else I can do to help, don't hesitate to ask." Her smiled was kind. 

Geno had several rapid very unkind thoughts in a row. 

Luckily, he was used to not speaking recently, so he just left her office filled with utterly useless things. With her utterly useless head. 

Geno called his mom for the third time in three days. It was approaching too late in the day to be bugging her. 

"Mom" he whined as the line connected. 

"Again?" called his father in the background. Overdramatic, he had pronounced unhelpfully the second time Geno called, all his limited sympathy used up. 

"No one has any idea how to cure it." His words were muffled by a new hand towel pressed in front of his face to block the worst of it. "I'm tired of this." 

"My poor baby," she cooed obligingly. 

"My face is puffy." He was fully sulking now, but it was his mom and so it didn't matter. Under his chin, the place where his salivary glands were felt puffed up and tender. "I miss Baba Olya." He had been close to his grandmother and her friend living with them growing up. It had only been a year since they passed within weeks of each other. "She would be able to fix this." 

His mother hummed in agreement. 

"No one else on your team is affected?" 

"Sidney's was cursed too, but he isn't affected." 

"Don't pout," she chided automatically. 

"I'm not pouting!" Geno argued, pouting into the phone, sucking on his bottom lip in frustrated irritation. 

"I'm sure it won't be long now, baby." 

Geno sighed; he wasn't so sure. His mother had made the appropriate scandalized sounds when he described 'Raven Nightstar', the team witch to her. At least she understood him. 

"Was there anything else? We were just about to have dinner." 

"No." Geno replied sullenly. 

"I'll talk to you later." She made a kissing sound that Geno returned, making a face as a bit of saliva slipped from the corner of his mouth. 

The line went dead, leaving him alone in the parking garage of the arena where Raven's office was. He did feel a little bit better having whined on the phone. 

Stupid Sidney, not spitting everywhere. Lucky bastard. Took a face full of curse and brushed it off like it was an attempted check, tanked through it with a vicious smile. 

Actually. 

Geno paused, hands stopping where he was rubbing his phone on his pants to clean them. 

That. 

Maybe. 

\-- 

“Sid,” Geno greeted. Sidney was wearing sweats and a ratty t-shirt, looking like the cold air from the open door didn’t bother him. If he was surprised to find Geno unannounced on his doorstep, he didn’t mention it. 

“Come in.” Sidney politely invited him into his house and hovered while Geno took off his shoes and coat. 

Sidney’s house was slightly too cold, as usual, with the same uninspired décor as the last time he’d been here. Unless-- that was a new painting of a lighthouse? Reminding himself he was here for a favour, Geno didn’t comment on it. 

“You’re quiet.” Sidney hummed curiously, turning over his shoulder to give Geno a mildly curious look. Fair enough for a man who showed up on his doorstep and refused to say why. His mother would be aghast with how rude he was being. 

“New painting?” Geno mumbled, swallowing thickly and inclined his head towards it. 

“What?” Sidney furrowed his brows, looking mildly bewildered at the painting as if he had never seen it. A short pause later and he wordlessly shrugged it off. “Let me grab you a drink.”

Geno trailed after him into his huge kitchen. 

“What do you want?” 

“Water,” Geno mumbled. Sidney’s eyebrows shot up in mute surprise, but yet again, politely, he didn’t comment on it, grabbing a glass and filling it from the tap on his fridge door before he passed it across. Geno grunted, downing half the thing at once. Sidney's questioning eyebrows were correct that wasn't nearly as satisfying as a beer, but the bubbles made everything worse, his mouth going tacky and gross before the bottle was done.

He rolled the plain glass between his palms, feeling the smooth coolness of it. Tried to ignore the way his tongue already felt overly wet. He took a second smaller sip as an excuse to swallow. Sidney poured his own glass out of pure Canadian politeness, leaning against the counter and watching him with poorly disguised curiosity. 

The standoff drew out long enough that Geno's condition began to act up. He swallowed again, switched the hand holding the glass and tried to find his scattered resolve. He'd hyped himself up all the way over. Had been ready to bully his way through the whole experience, the same way he approached anything that made him nervous. 

That lasted right up until Sidney looked at him. 

Who wasn't scary, not in his sweats and faintly amused smile. No, the fear was deeper, ingrained on his psyche when he was a boy. Two women who were obviously in love who lived with them, while not a single person acknowledged it. Good friends for many years they said. 

Geno had managed to convince himself that this was a medical intervention, not a gateway drug for craving dick. Staring at Sidney, and terrified to even consider that his mouth might be wet with more than just the curse, his conviction didn’t seem nearly as unshakable. 

"Still cursed," Geno muttered, probably clear enough to be understood. Maybe not, if the way Sidney was frowning at him was any indication. Geno heaved a sigh, managed not to drool on his own chin-- but it was a close call. 

It was with that burst of irritated energy that he was able to push the words past the tangle of nerves in his throat.

"The curse won't stop," he said, clearer. He reached into his back pocket for the cloth he put there in case he would need to speak. Holding it in front of his mouth he began his tale of woe. 

The mouthguard. 

His wet mouth. 

Raven, the useless team witch.

His Baba. 

Mother's sympathy. 

"Oh," Sidney said. It did not help Geno's heart any. He took another reflexive sip of his water, only to find it empty. 

As if on autopilot, Sidney took the few steps forward to refill his cup. It gave them both a moment to process. 

The silence between them drew out painfully, while Sidney busied himself with the fridge and Geno busied himself sucking on his bottom lip. When he turned around again Sidney nearly stumbled, water tipping in the cup dangerously but not spilling over. 

"Sorry." 

Geno frowned, reaching to take the glass back. 

"So you're here for..." Sidney trailed off, shifting his weight slightly. He didn't look nervous, nothing like the tangled knot of emotion sitting in Geno's chest. If anything, he looked thoughtful. 

"Cure," Geno replied. Tried hard to ignore how eager that sounded even in his own head. 

Sidney nodded. 

He opened his mouth, paused for a moment. Geno thought his heart might beat right out of his chest; he took another sip of his water to ease the racing of his thoughts. 

What if Sidney said no? 

Worse-- _what if Sidney said yes?_

"You do know what the cure is right?" 

Geno hesitated.

He nodded firmly. 

The thing about demons was they were an entire race of perverts as far as Geno was concerned. Their curse nullifying ability had to do with the natural spin of the worlds and subatomic particles and a lot of stuff he didn't really understand. Functionally, they could cure all manner of curses. The only thing about it, was it always required some sort of sex act. He's learned as much from porn and google. 

Dr. Dick was one of the longest lasting porn series on the internet. 

"And you're okay with that?" 

Geno nodded again. Realized a little late that he probably should have at least pretended to hesitate. 

The pause was probably only seconds. It felt like a millennia. 

"Sure." Sidney shrugged giving him a sharp smile. "I said I'd help." 

“Oh,” Geno replied faintly. 

Right. 

Yes.

Of course he would agree. It was the Captainly thing to do. 

He blinked a few times and sucked on his bottom lip, as he hesitated. Geno’s heart was beating too-fast behind his sternum. This was sports, what did casual blowjobs between friends matter? 

It wasn’t like he had imagined this before. Watching jock porn, fit men pounding fitter women. Had the anal tab saved to favourites. 

“You okay there, G?” Sidney looked worried. 

Geno wasn’t a blusher; he’d disregarded shame as a teenager when he realized that wasn’t the way he could get what he wanted. His cheeks felt unnaturally warm anyways. Whole body out of his control in new and alarming ways. 

He sucked a breath in between his teeth. “Didn’t think you would agree” he confessed. 

Sidney chuckled. “Well--” he began, trailing off and leaving Geno desperate to figure out what he meant. “Anything to help eh?” 

Geno nodded. “Yeah.” 

There was awkward. 

Then there was standing in Sidney’s living room listening to him earnestly talking about which pillow would be safest for Geno’s knees. Geno’s traitorous cheeks were bright red as he stared helplessly at the pile of pillows Sidney was tossing onto the floor one at a time. 

He had thought the bedroom would be too intimate, but the living room suddenly was just as bad. He had never been in Sidney’s bedroom, but he’d had casual beers sitting on the couch right there. 

Geno pressed his cloth to his face; it was damp now and he had left the spare in his car. But it did hide the worsening flush on his cheeks. 

“I think this is probably best,” Sidney said, tossing the extra at Geno when it was clear his focus had wandered away. “With me?” 

Geno nodded, tossing the pillow back at Sidney’s head. He caught it and tossed it back onto the couch in the same motion. 

“Hm?” Geno looked at Sidney’s face for the first time since they stepped into the living room. He was giving that sincere ‘trust me I’m a nice Canadian boy’ expression, with just enough eager anticipation that Geno had to swallow twice to clear his mouth. 

“You don’t need to do this,” Sidney said, as if Geno needed a reminder. The curse would eventually fade on its own or Raven would be able to compose the counter-curse. 

“I know,” he grunted, rolling his eyes to distract from how flushed his face felt and the probably-obvious nerves. 

“Okay good.” Sidney just watched. 

Geno rocked forward on his feet and then back a little. He wished Sidney would say something, maybe tell him where to sit or what to do. Trying to decide himself seemed like too daunting a task at the moment. 

“Have you done this before?” Sidney asked, casually. 

Geno’s face, which had almost returned to normal, flushed again. “Have you?”

“What? Got a blowjob? Maybe once or twice.” Sidney laughed. 

Geno made note for their next split team scrimmage. Sidney would get what was coming to him. Viciously. 

“Relax, Geno, it’s just me.” 

That was part of the problem. A lot of the problem. 

“We will get through this.” Sidney clapped his shoulder and Geno rolled his eyes. This was sex, not game seven. 

“Easy for Sid to say, not losing virginity to demon,” Geno simpered dramatically. 

“Bull shit.” Sidney cackled, corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile. 

Weirdly, that did seem to help; they would get through this. 

The pillow, after that amount of debate, was actually pretty comfortable. Geno settled in on his knees while Sidney squatted down so he wasn’t looming above him. 

“Okay, do we gotta—” 

“Like medicine cream, rub it on the injury,” Geno continued for him. This time it was Sidney’s turn to flush. 

“Please don’t refer to my dick that way.” He sighed. 

“How do you call it? Polysporin?” 

“Stop.” Sidney laughed. “But you are not entirely wrong. After, the curse should be gone.” 

“Okay. Ready.” Geno huffed, sitting a little straighter so he could look Sidney in the eyes. The expression on his face was soft, familiar. This didn’t seem like it bothered Sidney at all and that was comforting. 

“Good.” Sidney looked at him for long enough that Geno thought he had something else he wanted to add. Geno swallowed, blinked slowly when Sidney pushed up to standing and accepted the fact that he was now face to face with Sidney’s crotch. 

Black sweatpants were aged and soft. Sidney’s solid thighs evident under the material. The faint shadow and shape of his dick was clearly right there. 

Geno was drooling, and probably blushing. Sitting there on his knees desperately dreading how messy things were about to get. 

“Just uhhh, gimme a sec,” Sidney said, his voice sounding a little off. Geno looked up at his pink face curiously, and missed the moment Sidney tugged his sweats and grey briefs down. 

That was. 

That was Sidney’s dick. 

Of course, Geno had seen it an uncountable number of times in his life. Weekly, almost daily even. 

This time was different, now he was looking with intent. Sidney tugged his t-shirt up exposing his stomach, the trail of dark brown hair that faded from the definition of his abs down to the patch of curly dark hair that surrounded his dick. 

For all of Geno’s paranoia, Sidney seemed to have a normal looking dick. There was no immediate flash of lightning to prove his attraction wrong or right. God was silent while he contemplated Sidney’s hands wrapped around his own dick, giving it a few dry pulls. 

“Okay?” Sidney asked, pulling his attention back up to his face. Cheeks pink, dark hair curling around his ears where it was getting long. 

Geno nodded, swallowed, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to keep it from overflowing. 

Sidney sucked in a shaky breath and chuckled. “Good. This won’t be difficult at all,” said under his breath. 

Geno was going to ask, but then he was completely distracted by Sidney letting go, dick mostly hard and right in Geno’s face. Sidney’s thighs looked just as ridiculous up close, thick and muscular, the defined cut of Sidney’s hips trying to pull his attention from the obvious. There was just a lot going on, it was overwhelming-- in a good way. 

Geno swallowed the rush of saliva pooling under his tongue, suspicious that it had nothing to do with the curse and more to do with the anticipation suffusing his skin with heat. 

“Can I?” 

“Go wild,” Sidney breathed. 

It was easy to ignore how lame Sidney was when he was reaching out to touch. 

Rubbing his palms along Sidney’s thighs, he felt the drag of hair along his palms. It was probably too intimate, but he needed to know. Muscular and firm, wiry hair, no waxed skin here. Sidney didn’t seem to mind, just hummed and let Geno approach this as he would. 

The skin under his fingers wasn’t earth shattering. Sidney’s dick fit against his palm the way his own would. Smooth skin that slid over the firm inside. Heavy and hot against his fingers. The biggest difference was the angle he was approaching at. The understanding that this was _his_ hand, short blunt nails, cuticles finally healed when he couldn’t chew on them, and Sidney’s hard cock. That Sidney was hot because he was waiting for Geno to put it in his mouth. 

As a medical intervention. 

Sending a quick mental apology to his first girlfriend because this was actually kind of intimidating, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the side. 

Warm. Sidney’s breathing was steady above him, calming. He swallowed twice to clear his mouth and then let his tongue flick out daringly. The world didn’t shake. 

Geno let out a soft breath. He could do this. 

“You’re doing well,” Sidney said from above, and Geno froze. Immediately looking up at him, to find Sidney watching him with a warm smile. 

Fuck. Geno nearly swallowed his tongue, pressed his eyes closed and nodded. 

“Keep going,” Sidney prompted softly. 

He wanted Sidney to shut up, and to never stop. Swallowing again, Geno pressed another kiss to the side, closer to the tip this time, letting his tongue drag a little just to see if there was a taste this time. Again, nothing. 

He needed to swallow between each press of his wet lips. Worked away from where his hand was braced around the base to the tip. Faint scar from his circumcision, the head was firm and spongy, pressed a dent against his bottom lip where he let it rest while he gathered himself. 

He’d pressed his tongue as far into a girl as he could go face wet and tacky, let her hands tug at his hair while she demanded more. This shouldn’t be any better or worse. 

“You doing okay?” Sidney hummed. 

He let one of his hands rest on Geno’s shoulder. The contact was soothing and Geno hummed, swallowed again. He tipped his head back a little so he could look up at Sidney, who was watching him, lips parted. 

He looked like he was into this. As if he was into _Geno_ kneeling at his feet, giving his dick a curious kiss. Geno exhaled shakily. Anyone would be into getting their dick sucked. Still, Sidney didn’t need to be watching with that expression on his face. 

He opened his mouth, closed it as soon as some saliva threatened to slide from the corner of his lip, swallowed and then tried again. That was the head of Sidney’s dick in his mouth, pressing his lips open and sitting against his tongue. 

Geno paused there, struck utterly dumb. 

Sidney’s hand slid along his shoulder comfortingly. Geno hesitantly moved his tongue, licked at the shape of it softly. Tried to keep his focus from scattering. 

“Yeah, do that again,” Sidney praised. 

Geno settled, let his neck relax. Kept his lips between Sidney’s dick and his teeth while he let his tongue rub firmly over the head. Here, it did taste differently. It wasn’t a deal breaker, just different, so he settled into his task. 

He pulled back when saliva spilled from between his lips. He brought the back of his head across his mouth to scrub at it, embarrassed. 

“Wet.” Geno grunted in explanation. 

“Yeah,” Sidney breathed, making Geno look up at the faintly smug grin in place. 

“It’s curse,” Geno hissed, face flushed to match the way his lips felt, like they were tingling already. 

“Of course,” Sidney agreed too easily. “It’s going to get messy, maybe you should take your shirt off?” 

Sidney’s calming palm on his now bare shoulder was better and worse. Warm and comforting. Skin brushing against his own. 

This time, he tried to seal his lips around the head. Shifting to make sure he could keep his teeth from dragging anywhere. 

Sucking, even that much, drew a breathy sound of pleasure from Sidney. 

The heat that bloomed in his stomach wasn’t embarrassment or pure satisfaction but a potent mix of both. Geno pressed his eyes closed and tried not to whimper. This was so much more than he imagined. He was undeniably turned on, excited by the thought of a cock in his mouth and spurred on by the thought of giving pleasure. 

“That was really nice, do it again.” 

Geno did as he was told, sucking delicately on the head. When his mouth got too wet, he let saliva slip from the corner of his lips. He could just barely coordinate swallowing like this, but not efficiently enough to deal with the sheer amount of spit. 

Feeling bold, Geno began to move. Tried to mix moving his head with the suction of his mouth. That got him a breathy moan. It took a little bit of getting used to, but he was a quick study. 

“Yeah, just like that. It feels nice,” Sidney praised above him, rubbing his thumb where it rested against Geno’s collarbone, ruining his composure. Geno breathed through a shiver travelling its way down his spine. 

He pulled back to swallow, tried not to think about what he looked like, chin and neck already soaked. Focused instead on the slide of friction, Sidney’s cock between his lips, pressing his lips against his teeth in a slick drag. Pushing towards the back of his mouth in a gentle rocking motion. 

It felt weirdly good, lips overly sensitive to the in and out. 

In order to make sure the cure took, he would need to have Sidney’s dick touch all of his mouth. The thought was daunting-- even this much felt like too much. He was already leaking all over his chest and there was no way he wasn’t going to gag. 

Pausing, he sucked on just the head, letting his hand move absently as he breathed through his nose. Settled, he tried again, pressing just a little bit more this time. Sidney’s dick pushed his tongue down into the cradle of his jaw. Slick, as saliva spilled over his bottom lip and from the corners of his mouth. Next time, he pushed himself a little further than was comfortable; not enough to gag, but close to it. 

“Fuck,” Sidney cursed. “Do that again.” 

Geno did. Each time felt a little easier. This throat a little looser. 

He was getting hard in his jeans. Embarrassment overcome by the pleasure of the act. The press of a cock into his mouth nearly soothing. He focused on keeping his movements steady. 

He had just pushed himself a bit further, the head of Sidney’s dick pressing against the back of his mouth. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this,” Sidney hissed. 

Geno gagged. Throat spasming, as he tried desperately to swallow. 

He ended up needing to pull back and cough, sucking in sharp breaths through his teeth. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Sidney said, running his hands across his scalp and shoulders. “I didn’t mean to say that.” 

“What?” Geno croaked. His mouth was drenched. He looked up at Sidney, knowing his face was a mess but needing to see whatever expression he was making. 

Sidney smiled at him wryly, cheeks red. “I didn’t want to make things weird.” 

Geno gave him a pointed look. 

“Weirder,” Sidney amended. 

“It is okay.” Geno didn’t know what else to say. That thought was too much for right now. Luckily, he couldn’t talk if his mouth was busy. So, he did that instead. 

This time, it was a little easier to take Sidney into his mouth. He had mastered the basics. Coordinating his lips, hand and neck. 

“Look at your mouth,” Sidney praised, sounding awed. His hips twitched a little, as if Geno was finally testing his iron self control. He _liked_ that idea. 

Geno pressed himself as far as he could go, held it for a beat longer before his throat was twitching, forcing him to take in a harsh breath through his nose, sucking sloppily on the head of Sidney’s dick. 

“Fuck, G.” Sidney’s hands moved restlessly across his scalp, one eventually curling around his jaw. He didn’t try and move Geno, seemed to be content to just run his fingers through the mess coating his chin. Thick saliva from when he gagged sliding from the edges of his lips. “Just a little more.” 

He could do that. He could make Sidney come. 

Like a man possessed Geno pushed himself. Let Sidney’s dick press all along his tongue, let it slide deep enough that he knew Sidney’s fingers could feel the tension, the way he twitched as he repressed the urge to gag. The effort it took him to stay just there on the very edge of too much. 

He wanted Sidney to press. Kind of wanted him to say he knew Geno could do better, twitch his hips and make Geno gag on him. If it were for Sidney, Geno knew he could do it. Years of a relationship built on pushing each other’s limits. 

Sidney began to move, and Geno hummed in wordless approval, slowing so he could let Sidney move. As if he was using the hands he had on Geno to read him, he rocked shallowly against his face but never more than Geno could handle. Geno had his eyes pressed shut; he didn’t want to know what kind of face Sidney was making now. The fingers on his jaw rubbed sweetly gentle. 

“You are doing so well. This is perfect,” Sidney said, words rumbled so they were slurred together slightly. “I’m going to come.” 

Geno went hot, tried not to squirm. 

Sidney switched so that he was jerking himself off, Geno’s hands on his hips as he kept sucking on the head. 

Sidney came with a shuddering gasp, hot all over Geno’s tongue and lips when he jerked back in surprise. 

He knelt there, stunned, face a wreck while Sidney hummed, breathing heavy as he came down. 

Suddenly Sidney was kneeling in front of him, sliding his hands through the mess Geno could feel on his face. Geno shivered, sucking a wet breath in between his teeth. 

“Sid.”

“Yeah,” Sidney agreed. He moved slowly, telegraphing his intentions loudly. Stunned as he was, Geno didn’t even consider turning his face away. Let Sidney’s lips brush against his, swollen and filthy. 

He whined a little, a desperate confused sound trapped in his chest. 

“Sorry, I wanted to do that for awhile too,” Sidney said, letting their foreheads rest together. 

Geno huffed. 

“Want help with that?” 

Geno considered for a moment, kneeling there with his own hand pressed desperately against his stiff cock through his pants. 

“Yes.”

They managed to get his jeans peeled down just enough to get his dick out, and then Sidney got a hand on him. Rubbed through the spit still wet on his chest to ease the slide. 

It barely took anything, just Sidney’s palm, and his tongue slipping into Geno’s well-used mouth and he was coming with a short groan and adding to the mess on his stomach. 

Sidney giggled against his shoulder. 

\--

“I think I found the counter curse,” Raven said on the phone. Geno stared at the ceiling of Sidney’s spare bedroom and tried to force his brain to translate for him with limited success. It was too early in the morning for a man who stayed up too late. 

“It’s fine,” he grunted. 

“Fine?” 

“Curse all gone.” He hung up the phone and rolled over. Looked at another hideous boat painting on the wall and tried to smother his smile into the pillow.


End file.
